


Ruin Our Friendship

by xyliane



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Friendship, M/M, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-07-07 14:56:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15910560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xyliane/pseuds/xyliane
Summary: It's a master plan, really: they pretend to date for long enough that people forget the rumors that Killua's dating adults (he'snotand the rumors aregross), and Gon convinces everyone he can hold a partner longer than a few weeks. It's a bet. A challenge. Neither Gon or Killua can resist.What could go wrong?





	Ruin Our Friendship

**Author's Note:**

> it's titled "the self indulgent fake!dating hsau" in my drafts, what more do you expect. also I took retz and gave her a wholly different character because it's fanfiction and I can.

Gon and Killua are weird teenagers. For one, they don’t really have friends at school outside of each other. Almost all their friends are college students, or actual adults, people they’ve known for years and somehow no one questions it. Zushi’s managed to befriend them through sheer force of stubbornness, and no small amount of his sensei teaching both of them for a bit. Alluka’s Killua’s sister. Everyone else kind of…

Look, Gon is a nice guy. Genuinely. Any and all of his classmates would agree, he’s kind, attentive, and incredibly creative. No one who’s ever asked him out has had a bad time on their dates, and he truly does not give a shit if they have screwed up in the past. But he’s never been able to hold onto a partner for longer than a date or two, and it’s always a mutual thing. His exes (and no one can decide if they are really exes, if the most they ever did was hold hands or have a chaste kiss outside a movie theater) all agree that Gon’s not so much interested in dating as he is in  _dates_.

Plus, Gon’s intense. Scary intense. Everyone thinks he’s a shoo-in for a wrestling scholarship, but he keeps talking about taking a year off to look for his disappeared dad. Even Killua doesn’t know what his best friend is up to. but that’s not something to worry about now. They’re just starting their last year of high school. Gon will tell him eventually.

As for Killua: everyone agrees he’s an asshole. A scary asshole who’s scary good at pretty much everything. He’s a Zoldyck, after all, and Zoldycks only go to public school to demonstrate how much better they are than everyone else. At least, that’s what people think when he starts high school during his and Gon’s second year. But for the people who get to know him (or at least, already are hanging out with Gon and then poof Killua’s there  _all the time_  instead of just after school or randomly during lunch…or polisci?) he’s actually not a bad guy. Rational, quick-witted, and smart enough to maintain good grades while pissing off every single teacher at least once. But he also helps with clean up after Gon’s wrestling matches, and dotes on his little sister, and he has never once looked down on anyone for who they are.

Still scary. Still more likely to argue back at teachers than listen to them. But he takes Gon at his scariest intensity and curls up against him like a well-fed cat in a patch of sunlight. That’s probably the scariest thing about him.

The other thing is how many adults people think he’s dating.

That has to be the explanation for how many adults he’s friends with, right? And how little respect he gives teachers. people on the other side of town can hear his arguments with Miss Biscuit or Coach Bisky ( _not_ Ms. Krueger, protect yourself). He’s taking uni courses his third and fourth year of high school, so it’s not like he’s sucking up to them. And he and Gon aren’t dating, or Gon wouldn’t be going on so many dates.

(”IT’S ILLEGAL YOU PERVS” is heard bellowed more than once, usually followed by Gon and/or Alluka not so gently leading Killua away. after Killua’s seventeenth birthday, Gon points out that it’s not technically illegal anymore, and there are rumors that Killua attempts best friend murder that very night.)

One weekend towards the start of their last year of high school, Gon and Killua are lounging around the tiny living room/kitchen in the Freecss apartment, supposedly working on homework but really just screwing around with what little free time they have, and it gets to be a little much, even for Killua.

“It’s so gross. They thought I was dating Bisky.  _Bisky_ ,” he groans into his arms. “I didn’t think it could get worse than the old man, who at least dresses decently when he’s not in hospital scrubs, but that hag? What if some college scout gets wind of this bullshit? My parents won’t ever let me leave the house again. Gon, shut the fuck up, if you keep laughing like that your intestines will come out your nose.”

Gon does not, in fact, shut up, and instead continues cackling, occasionally gasping for breath. “You don’t even date anyone!” he manages.

Killua smacks him on the forehead, and Gon whines. “You’re an asshole. Not like you can hold a partner, anyways.”

“Can too!” he protests.

“Yeah, sure. What’s the longest you ever dated anyone? A week?”

“Quen and I went out for most of a month.”

“You went to the movies twice in three weeks, and didn’t even kiss her,” Killua says. “You don’t date people unless they ask you, anyways.”

“They’re my friends!”

“I’m right and you know it.”

“Screw you, Killua. At least people don’t think I’m dating the teachers.”

Killua growls and throws his backpack at Gon’s head. “I bet you couldn’t date anyone for that long,” he says.

Gon’s eyes gleam with challenge. “Yeah? Tell me who, and I will!”

Killua starts to say someone–maybe Zushi? He’d be down for it, if Killua paid him off–but a lightbulb goes off in his head. He grins viciously. “Me.”

Gon blinks. “What?”

“Listen! It makes sense. I need people to stop thinking I’m dating– _eugh_ –anyone like Bisky _–eugh gross–_ and you can prove that you can date anyone longer than three seconds.”

“Three weeks!”

“I meant what I said, dumbass.”

Gon gnaws on his lower lip. “But…we’re not really dating, Killua. It doesn’t count.”

“If enough people think it’s real, it counts. We just gotta make it look real.” Killua props his chin up on a fist, eyebrow raised. “What, you scared you’ll get tied down?”

“I’m not scared of anything, Killua!”

“Then prove it. Date me for all of fall semester. You fuck up, you owe me the biggest pile of chocorobos you can find–and a double batch of those brownies your mom makes.”

“What if I win?” Gon asks.

“I owe you a favor, no questions asked.  _Within reason,”_  he adds quickly, because he remembers the eighth grade Joyriding Incident, which had been far too close to Gon’s near-death just a few months prior for anyone's comfort. “But you won’t win. So you better start saving up now.”

Gon studies his face for a long moment, but Killua doesn’t have any doubt he’ll say yes. Gon can’t say no to a good challenge, and this will help Killua solve his own problems. At least for long enough that people will stop getting on his case.

“Yeah,” Gon says, and sticks his hand out. “You’re on.”

Killua grins, and shakes on it. But he takes advantage of having Gon’s hand gripped tight to pull his best friend across the table until they’re practically nose to nose. “At least make this convincing enough that people get off my case,” he says.

Gon snorts with amusement, and before Killua can move, presses a swift kiss to his cheek. He gapes like a fish at his best friend. “You want it convincing?” Gon asks, voice low. “I can be convincing.”

Killua feels his cheeks turn nuclear reactor hot. “At  _school_ , you asshole!”

Gon laughs, and soon enough Mito is woken up from her before-work nap to physically tear the two of them apart like they’re thirteen again.

* * *

Reactions at school are…mixed.

Gon and Killua have been an unbreakable pair for so long, even before Killua had started public school, that they’ve been through several cycles of school rumors about just how close they are: Best friends? Friends with benefits? Actually dating and private about it? Most people tend to land on “they’re weird, and they’re friends, so of course they’re weird friends.” The rare few who had thought they’d been dating the whole time find prospects of them  _actually_ appearing to date kind of terrifying. But for the rest…

No one will actually ask either one of them what's going on. Not that Gon wouldn’t be honest about it, to the degree he’s honest about everything, but he’s as fond of a joke as Killua is. And Killua can be scary when he’s not being an asshole just to be an asshole.

So they bother Alluka.

_(”Don’t tell anyone,” Brother asked once she’d stopped laughing, because this is ridiculous even for him and Gon. “If you keep it a secret I’ll give you a quarter of my winnings when Gon breaks.”_

_“Half.”_

_“One third, and a full sheet of brownies.”_

_“Done.”)_

“Are they  _serious_?” Zushi hisses in Alluka’s ear. He’s even taller than brother, technically in a weight class above Gon even if they wrestle together, so he has to bend over to keep his voice down. Alluka’s not exactly short, but Zushi’s head and shoulders above most people.

On the other side of the hallway, people milling around collecting their stuff at the end of the day, Killua’s leaned down to whisper something conspiratorially in Gon’s ear, arm pressed close around the shorter teenager’s shoulders. Gon grins with too many teeth, and before Killua can protest, ruffles the Zoldyck’s white curls affectionately, messing them up from their usual deliberately styled untidiness to an actual disaster. Killua splutters, cheeks pink, and Gon takes advantage of the distraction to make a run for it.

If Alluka didn’t know any better, she’d say they really were dating, instead of hyper-competitive teenagers. Gross.

Alluka pinches the bridge of her nose. It’s been two weeks since The Bet started, and she’s already sick of answering questions. At least Zushi’s nice about it. “They’re idiots,” she says.

“I know that. But are they–Are Gon and Killua really…” Zushi frowns. “Are they Gon-dating, or dating-dating?”

“You’re asking if they’re really dating, or going on dates.”

Zushi shrugs. “Everyone’s curious. it’s already longer than most of Gon’s dates, and it’s…well, it’s Gon and Killua.”

“You’re their friend, Zushi. Ask them yourself!”

Zushi shakes his head vehemently and refuses to say anything else.

Alluka wants to pull her hair out. She loves her brother, really. But he owes her big time for all of this.

“Brother wouldn’t date someone if he wasn’t serious,” she says. “It’s why all those rumors bother him so much.”

None of it’s a lie, really. Alluka likes Zushi, respects him enough that she hopes he figures out the truth on his own. But for now, her answer seems to settle Zushi’s mind

Unlike Killua, who had to practically beg to go to high school, Alluka’s been in public school since sixth grade, and has seen all sorts of rumors about her brother and his best friend. None of them seemed to make much of a dent in their friendship, not even the freshman year chaos incited by Killua showing up to all of Gon’s wrestling meets bearing homemade signs of increasingly violent support. She never expected Brother to actually do anything about them, least of all pretend to date Gon. Or for Gon to actually agree.

She loves them both, and they do love each other. They’ve been friends for too long for something this stupid to mess things up. But Alluka would really just like to survive her exams this year without having to constantly be interrupted by her brother’s love life, fake or otherwise.

“They are  _idiots_ ,” she says once again, vehemently, and makes a mental note to demand extra chocolate at the end of this.

* * *

“No.”

“We’re going!”

“No, I’m not.”

Gon crosses his arms over his chest and glowers. “Killua. I haven’t missed homecoming once.”

“Then you can keep going, I have a new high score to beat.”

“Killua!” Gon says, and steps bodily in front of the television. His best friend swears colorfully, and the television makes a cheerful _you lost!_ noise.

“What the fuck, Gon?”

“We’re going to homecoming,” Gon says. “Together. And then we’re going to the party at Zushi’s place.”

Killua’s eyebrows squish together in about five different emotions of dismay and frustration. “I’m not going!” he says.

Gon sighs. “If I don’t go, Killua, everyone will know we’re not actually dating.”

“So what.”

“Then you forfeit, and I win.”

Killua throws the controller down on the couch. It skitters off the cushions and crashes onto the floor. “No. It hasn't even been a month.”

“Then come to homecoming with me!”

Gon’s not sure why he’s pushing this so hard. He didn’t even take anyone to homecoming last year, too busy with pre-season practice and struggling to stay afloat in pre-calc to accept Kor or Ari’s invitations. He’d gone on his own, then to Zushi’s afterwards, and it had been fun! Killua hadn’t paid any attention, since he’s vehemently sworn off all school functions forever.

But last year, and the year before that, and every other time he’s gone to something by himself, Gon couldn’t help but think how much more fun it would have been with his best friend. And this year will be different.

Killua scowls, but not because he’s angry. If Gon’s right, he looks…

“Why are you scared, Killua?” he asks.

“I’m not scared!” Killua says much too quickly. Gon merely gives him a look. “I’m not, just. We need boundaries.”

“I won’t do anything you don’t want to do, Killua. You know that, right?”

Killua takes a deep breath, processing it for a minute. “Yeah, I know. I trust you,” he says.

Gon’s heart does something funny, like it can’t stop beating too fast as it races up his throat.  

Weird.

“A-anyways,” Killua continues. “We do this, but follow my lead.”

That makes Gon smile widely. He’s won this round, it’s only practical to let Killua hold onto whatever dignity he needs.

It turns out that Killua’s lead means clothes, and showing up for as little time as possible. Gon doesn’t mind the timing–it’s fewer people he has to say hello to, less of a chance of running into a chaperone before leaving for Zushi’s. Aunt Mito’s made both of them promise to come back to her place, no matter what time they’re done–better safe for the night, she figures, than out trying to hide something stupid. But the pants Killua picked out for him are a little too tight, and he isn't allowed to wear his favorite suspenders despite arguing for ten minutes. Killua also enlists Alluka in “fixing your stupid hair” while he gets ready. And Killua–

Killua opens the door to Gon’s car ten minutes late, hair slicked back and out of his face. He’s dug a sleek blue vest out of the bottom of his closet, the sort of thing he usually wears when he needs to impress someone, and it’s buttoned over a black collared shirt. The whole outfit hugs him clearly, outlining strong muscles from running and swimming without being too tight or loose. He’s replaced the black studs he usually wears with shiny silver things, and his eyes are incredibly blue.

Gon’s heart does that funny thing again.

“Ready?” Killua asks, and Gon realizes he forgot to breathe.

“Are you?”

“Yeah. Alluka wants to come too. Something about  _photographic evidence_ ,” Killua says in a tone that makes the words sound like a crude curse. His sister pokes her head out from behind him, a grin on her face and her phone in her hands. Her dress is a frilly pink thing that makes her practically glow, reflected in the beads in her hair and the smiley faces on her earrings. She looks so much happier now that she can wear what she wants, whenever she wants, no matter that most of the Zoldycks think it’s just a phase or some bullshit.

Gon’s happy that she’s happy. And Killua is happiest when his sister is happy. It all works out.

“You look great, Alluka!” Gon says, and leans across the dash to open the door for her.

She giggles. “Aren’t you supposed to do that for your date?” she asks, wriggling her eyebrows.

Killua turns pink. “You know it’s not real!” he says.

Alluka’s smile widens. “Yeah, but people at school are starting to wonder if you’re just screwing with everyone. You two need to practice more if you want it to look real.”

Killua shoves himself into the front seat. “Like you know better.”

“I do. That’s what the camera’s for, to help you lie.”

Killua splutters something about overbearing little sisters as Gon starts the car, but Gon’s too focused on Alluka’s words to pay much attention.

The comment sticks with him all the way through the dance, walking into the gym hand in hand with Killua while Alluka follows, unwilling to stop giggling. They don’t stay long, since Zushi’s house will be ready before the actual dance is over, and Killua will be more comfortable there. Even when Alluka pushes them out onto the floor out for their single bet-mandated dance, he’s still quiet. Killua gives him a strange look, but doesn’t push.

At least, not until they get to Zushi’s.

“What’s your problem?” Killua whispers as they walk up the front steps.

Gon looks up at him, genuinely confused. “What problem?”

Killua rolls his eyes and tugs them away from the door towards the swing in front of Zushi’s house. “You’re the one who wanted to do this,” he says.

“I do!”

“So why do you look so distracted?”

“I’m not–” Killua gives him a Look, eyes piercing. Gon tries again. “Alluka said it doesn’t look like we’re dating. Not for real.”

“Don’t listen to her,” Killua says, cheeks warm enough that Gon can feel it through the autumn chill. “Besides, you’ve never been one for making out in public or anything. You think it’s stupid.”

“Because those were dates, not dating,” Gon says. “I’m supposed to be dating you. That’s the deal.”

“You are!” Killua says. “You got me to go to fucking homecoming, and the stupid party.”

“Yeah, and…” Gon tries to figure out what he wants to say. There aren’t exactly words, though, not ones that make sense yet. He wants to win this bet. He wants Killua to have a good time. And he doesn’t want this to stop yet, not so soon after it started.

Killua, being Killua, seems to understand anyways. “Look, let’s go in, have a few drinks, and pretend we’re in love or some bullshit,” he says. “We don’t have to do much. How hard can it be?”

Gon nods slowly. “It’s a date, right?” he says.

Killua grins. In the dim light from Zushi’s house, his skin is stained with red. “Exactly. You gonna sweep me off my feet with shitty booze and bad music, Freecss?”

“You’ll think it’s a real date by the time I’m done,” Gon promises, and Killua’s smile sharpens. “How far–?”

“Boundaries, right.” Killua runs a hand through his hair like he’s nervous. “Dancing’s fine. Touching’s okay.”

“Kissing?”

The nervous movements intensify. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

Gon tilts his head. “Have you ever kissed anyone before, Killua?”

His best friend refuses to look at him. “Now’s not exactly the best time to practice,” he says.

“There’s never a good time, not unless it’s real,” Gon says. “If you don’t want to, we won’t.”

Killua physically relaxes, his hand dropping to catch Gon’s. But his eyes don’t leave Gon’s, a strange light in them that make them seem huge. “That means a lot,” he mutters, because the day Killua thanks Gon for anything will be the day that he gives up chocolate.

It’s as close as Killua will ever get, though. “Dancing, and touching. and drinks! I want you to have fun, Killua. For me?”

Killua nods, weird look still in his eyes. but he blinks, and it’s replaced by his usual smirk.

And he smacks Gon’s ass loud enough that Alluka and Zushi, still chatting at the door with some of their classmates, look up, and the others follow their stares. Zushi looks completely scandalized. Alluka looks like she wishes she had her phone out, or maybe that she could strangle her brother.

Gon’s face burns, and he glares at Killua, whose smirk widens exponentially as he walks towards the front door. “I’m already having fun,” Killua says over his shoulder.  _What’re you gonna do about it?_  is written in every line.

This is a bet, and Gon’s going to win.

* * *

Killua wakes up with a headache and the taste of death on his tongue and a warm heaviness weighing on his limbs. It takes him a minute to remember that, yes, he had planned on staying at Gon’s, that Alluka’s sleeping on the couch. Everything’s fine.

And then he opens his eyes and realizes that the heaviness isn’t him, it’s Gon. A fully clothed, sleepy-eyed Gon who looks at Killua with a slow smile that makes the air in the bedroom feel much, much too tight for Killua’s lungs. “Hey, K’lua,” he says.

Later, Killua will think this through rationally. That Gon and Mito’s apartment is tiny, that Gon’s bed is about all the room he would have to sleep other than the floor if Alluka took the couch, that they'd forgotten to lay out the spare mattress before leaving. That of course Gon would insist that they share the bed if the only other alternative is the kitchen chairs. That Gon’s bed is still small, so they’d have to sleep close to fit. That this isn’t even the first time they’ve fallen asleep on each other over the years, and absolutely will not be the last.

But at that moment, Killua squawks like a startled chicken and sends Gon tumbling.

Alluka hears the noise and subsequent yelling and opens the door a crack, eyes murky with lack of sleep and hair sticking up in five different directions. “Dumbasses,” she yawns.

Gon tries to apologize at the same time that Killua starts fumbling an explanation, but she holds up a hand. a hand with a phone, with a photo of two teenagers, one with spiky black hair whose hand is caught in the curly white mess of the other’s, grins on both their faces. They’re pressed way, way too close together in what might be dance if the viewer were charitable and probably drunk. Which would fit the photo, after all. “After last night, no one will think you’re not dating anymore,” she says, and grins like a cat toying with a canary.

Both teenage boys turn bright red and get as far apart as Gon’s room will let them. They refuse to look at each other, let alone interact, all the way through breakfast.

* * *

Killua’s phone buzzes later.  _we can stop_ , Gon says.

_surrendering?_ Killua types back.  _i accept. you owe me three tons of chocorobos_.

Gon sends him back a poop emoji.

* * *

 

If anyone had doubted they were going out before, Zushi’s party seals it. (And the video, to Killua’s chagrin and Gon’s bemusement, Alluka had  _video evidence_  of them dancing with Gon’s hands down the back pockets of his trousers and Killua’s hands all over him. She’d made sure only a select few had gotten it, but it was enough that more than one person had high-fived Killua the next time he saw the wrestling team. Killua can’t decide if he wants to thank her or push her off a cliff.) It all settles back into something manageable, and not unfamiliar from normal: they hang out at Killua’s locker in the morning, and at Gon’s before he heads to the gym after classes. Killua occasionally makes an effort to lean physically against Gon, trusting his friend’s strength to keep them both up. Gon seeks out Killua’s hand to hold in the hallway, keeping it firmly tucked in his own until Killua explodes out of embarrassment. Gon is still the one to drag Killua away from arguments about poorly executed history books, and Killua makes sure that Gon finishes his homework in the library between school and practice even if it means using well-placed flicks to the forehead.

And Gon, since it’s his part of the bet, makes an effort to schedule at least one date a week, navigating between his schedule and Killua’s. Killua wonders sometimes if Gon spends less time on planning these dates than he did for the brief but meaningful times he went out with other people. Killua had helped plan some, and he knows Gon went all in on every single one. But these…

It’s laser tag that quickly turns into a one-on-one match. Or hitting up the block with three ice cream parlors. Or a really bad action movie. Somehow each one is exactly what Killua would pick out on his own, if they were going as friends. It helps the facade, that they are going out even when they’re not, and if Killua’s honest with himself, he’s glad that Gon’s not doing anything ridiculous or romantic.

That’s never fit the Gon he knows as his best friend, anyways.

Gon’s surprised after date four when Killua turns up after weekend practice, keys to his car in one hand and a few flowers in his other, and says that it’s his turn to take Gon out so hurry the fuck up and get in the damn car, he needs to pick up Alluka in four hours. The other wrestlers and Coach Bisky give him shit about it for the next week- _-you mean you always picked out the dates? what about him? you can’t keep_ everything  _to yourself, that’s selfish!_ –-but Gon is oddly touched. Killua usually goes along with whatever he decides, so everything else is special.

They’ve been best friends for so long, Gon feels like Killua knows him better than he knows himself. All of this is fake, sure, but hanging out with Killua, just to hang out with him? Even for a bet?

It’s good. They’re good. And when this is done, even after Killua goes to university and Gon goes off to find Ging, maybe Gon can convince Killua that they can keep hanging out like this, just the two of them.

* * *

If there’s one potential wrench in the gears of this whole plan, it’s the Zoldycks.

Gon hates Killua’s family. He hates his parents, who want him to be carbon copies of Silva or Zeno with no say from Killua whether or not he wants it. Gon doesn’t know enough about Killua’s youngest sibling Kalluto to hate or like him, but he hates his older brother Milluki, who regularly stalks Killua’s social media and sends Gon gross texts from Killua’s old phone. He especially hates Illumi, whose very presence makes Killua shut down and Alluka shrink into herself. If Gon could, he would punch Illumi in the face or break his arm, anything to keep him away from Killua.

And they don’t know that Killua dating Gon is fake.

At first, Killua insists that they won’t ever find out. But the side effect of everyone at school thinking they’re dating–Gon still wonders sometimes just how he convinced Killua that dancing together was a good idea, let alone that Alluka could photograph them–is that the Zoldycks find out.

It’s late October when the Zoldyck butlers turn up at Aunt Mito’s doorstep, Gotoh looking practically apologetic behind his gleaming glasses and picture-perfect suit. “The master and mistress would like to talk to you, Mr. Freecss,” he says.

“Gotoh, you’ve known Gon since we were twelve. Call him by his name,” Killua says.

Gotoh tilts his head in acknowledgment. “Of course, Master Killua.”

Gon scrunches up his nose in displeasure, because Aunt Mito would yell at him if he flipped off the butler. It’s not entirely Gotoh’s fault that Killua’s family is worse than shit. It is his fault that he tries to follow Silva and Kikyo’s orders, or illumi’s demands, that Killua not be allowed anywhere near Gon.

Not that that’s worked.

“I don’t want to talk to them,” Gon says   “Killua’s here with me for the weekend. It’s closer to school, and he promised he’ll finish his application essay. And Alluka’s here to make sure he follows through and doesn’t get distracted.”

By video games, but the implication is there. Killua punches him in the shoulder for that.

“Mr. Freecss, I don’t really have much choice.”

“You could choose to leave Killua alone.”

Gotoh covers up a grin with the glinting of his glasses. "It was either my humble self, or Master Illumi. I talked your father down to only butlers, not least so you can leave when you choose."

Gon's nostrils flare dangerously, but Killua taps him on the shoulder firmly until he lets out the hot air. "Thanks, I guess," Gon says, and Killua chokes back a laugh.

As it turns out, Killua’s parents are…well, not supportive, but not outright condemning this either. The whole thing is startlingly civil compared to the stalemate their friendship had originally caused when they were kids, only broken by Aunt Mito physically storming the gates of the Zoldyck manor with Gon in tow and butlers cowed in her wake. Now, Kikyo glares daggers into Gon’s chest the entire time, refusing to look him in the eye. And Silva uses every ounce of muscle behind his well-tailored suits to look as imposing as possible, staring down at Gon with piercing blue eyes that look horribly similar to Killua’s in everything but their lack of warmth.

They’ve never liked Gon. Gon doesn’t expect that to change, even if he and Killua were really dating.

They don’t deserve to know the truth.

He holds Killua’s hand tightly as he ignores Silva’s short speech about propriety and timeliness, about the daring stupidity of youth, about how Killua’s future is with the family and going off to college. The only thing keeping him there and not tossing Killua over his shoulders and storming back to Aunt Mito’s apartment is his promise to be patient, and Killua’s promise to leave if his family tries to do anything like stop him. Gon realizes that, if they had opposed this…fake, but real-looking, romance, he might have left long ago. But this tepid lack of opposition is.

Strange.

Gon doesn’t like it.

But no other shoe drops, and when the doors to the Zoldyck estate creak back open Gon wastes no time in darting away with barely a chance for Killua to say goodbye to his parents, promise he’ll be back that night or the night after,  _no mom we’re not **doing that.**_

Gon doesn’t realize he’s breathing hard until they’re outside on the driveway, blood throbbing in his head as they wait for Gotoh to bring the car back around. “I hate them,” he tells Killua, not for the first time or for the last.

Killua sighs. “After high school, I don’t have to live with them anymore. And Alluka will move in with me.”

“I still hate them.”

“Yeah, but I–” Killua cuts himself off at the sight of a sleek black car pulling up, the Zoldyck family crest emblazoned on the hood. “Kiss me.”

It takes a moment for the words to process, and Gon is still not sure he heard them right. “What.”

“That’s Illumi’s–-Fuck, Gon, it’s Illumi’s fault Father and Mom dragged us both out here. My father doesn’t give two shits as long as I finish school, but Illumi has hated you for years and he really hates that I’m dating you and not some pre-selected perfectly preened idiots he’s tried to hook me up with for years.”

“I will, Killua, but–”

Killua growls. “You’ve kissed other people before because they asked. So kiss me. Now!”

Before Gon can insist that it’s better if they go slow, Killua grabs onto Gon’s face with both his hands and smashes their lips together.

Gon isn’t ready, and nearly headbutts Killua trying to stumble back. But Killua’s hands keep them both pressed tightly together, lips firm and unyielding. Gon does his best to grab one hand on Killua’s neck and the other around his waist, leaning into the kiss because he isn’t sure if there’s anywhere else he can go. Killua’s eyes are squeezed tightly shut, and Gon’s nose is squashed against his cheek. It’s the most uncomfortable kiss of his life, neck pulled awkwardly and cheeks trapped under strong fingers.

But Gon barely notices Illumi stalking up the driveway, or the feeling of being watched by any of the cameras around the front of the mansion. All he can think about, narrowed down to the places where skin meets skin, is Killua.

So Gon lets his eyes drift closed and kisses Killua back. It takes a long moment before Killua relaxes enough that it doesn’t feel like kissing a block of Killua-shaped stone, and by then it’s all either of them can do to keep going, open-mouthed and messy until Canary beeps the horn of Gotoh’s car several times, each honk more obnoxious than the last even as her face remains as passive as Gotoh’s.

They break apart, breathing hard, and Killua buries his face into Gon’s shoulder until it cools off enough for them to leave. Gon waves cheerfully at the butlers, and Canary hides a smile.

* * *

“You’ve never kissed anyone before, huh,” Gon says later. The spare mattress is squeezed onto the floorspace of his bedroom, the sound of Alluka’s snores drifting through the walls. Killua never did finish his application essay, but that’s the Zoldycks’ fault, not Gon’s.

Killua’s cheeks turn bright red. “Fuck off.”

“it wasn’t bad!” Gon says, not bothering to keep a grin off his cheeks.

“it wasn’t good,” Killua grumbles.

Gon shrugs. He’s not sure about that, but he’s not sure how to voice it, either. “Do you think we’ll need to do it again?” he asks instead.

“Make out in front of my family?” Killua grimaces. “Hopefully never. I think Illumi got the message.”

“What about kissing without them?”

Killua stares up at Gon out of the darkness, blue eyes catching the moonlight that drifts in through the window. “Do you want–Gon, this isn’t real. We’re not dating.”

“Exactly! But what if you want to kiss someone else later? Or someone thinks we’re not dating?” Gon scooches over in his bed, leaving space for Killua to crawl in tentatively. As he does, Gon leans in a little closer than usual, and Killua’s eyes widen. “Or maybe you want to kiss me?”

That gets a hand shoved into his face. Gon giggles and licks at Killua’s palm. His best friend grimaces and wipes the spit off on Gon’s own hair. “Gross.”

“You’re gross.”

“You’re the one talking about kissing!”

“And you kissed me earlier, so we’re even.” Killua drops his head into his hands like he’s trying to hide his burning cheeks, and Gon decides to let him off the hook. “It’s to piss off your brother, so that’s good, but warn me next time, please? I was surprised.”

Killua groans like he’s been punched. “Fine. Okay. I get it. I need to practice,” he says.

“if you want to practice with someone, you can kiss me,” Gon says. “This is fake, so it doesn’t count. Just ask.”

Killua raises his head, expression set and determined. “Then I’m asking.”

“Now? But there’s no one else here.”

“Then no one but you can see me make an idiot of myself.” Killua slowly, carefully winds his long fingers through Gon’s, his pale skin luminescent against Gon’s freckled brown hand. “This doesn’t have to do with the bet, but if you think it’ll be convincing, or…I don’t know. This is stupid. Forget it.”

Gon can’t help it. He reaches up with his free hand, thumb brushing across Killua’s jawline. There’s a little bit of downy hair growing at the edge, not enough to need shaving but enough to give his skin a bit of fuzz. In the quiet of the room, he hears Killua’s breath stutter. “Gon–”

“Practice, right?” Gon says. “Relax. it’s just me.”

“It’s just you,” Killua echoes. He closes his eyes like he’s bracing for impact, and Gon snorts loud enough that Killua punches him not so gently in the arm.

“Relax,” Gon says again, and guides Killua’s chin down to meet him.

The kiss is slow, less frantic with no one watching and no one to prove anything to, lips moving gently against each other’s. Gon presses calmly, not too fast or too slow, using his lips to map out the contours of Killua’s mouth. His lips are chapped, Gon notices, a little rough around the edges where they rub against Gon’s. But they’re warm, and soft, and no one Gon’s kissed before has felt quite like this: hesitant but eager, holding back like a wound wire while trying to absorb everything Gon puts into the kiss. It makes Gon’s whole body tingle with electricity, from his lips to his hands and back with a current that pulses in his veins. Out of everyone he’s ever agreed to go out with, Gon’s never cared whether or not they kissed him. It hadn’t mattered before.

This is Killua. His best friend. Gon wants this to matter.

But this is practice. It’s not real. Gon said so himself. It’s a game, a bet, and he’s going to win, and it’s not  _real._

Gon pulls back, and when Killua opens his eyes, his eyes are full of moonlight and an emotion Gon doesn’t know how to name.

“I think I need more practice,” Killua says. His voice sounds airy and breathless. “Just in case.”

Gon grins, and lets his best friend pull him into another kiss.

* * *

“I’m so fucked,” Killua says to the ceiling.

On the other side of the phone, probably propped up on a mound of textbooks, Ikalgo chokes on a bemused snort. “You kissed Gon. It’s not the end of the world. Sounds like he even liked it.”

“He’s my friend! It’s not-–it’s just a bet. One he’s going to lose. And yeah, I pissed off Illumi, that worked perfectly, but then I kissed Gon _again.”_

What sort of an excuse is practice? Sure, Gon’s hot, but Killua has known this for years and it’s never before made the stupidest ideas float right out of his mouth without stopping by his brain to check in. Worse, it had brought up a whole host of feelings.  _Feelings_. Killua’s used to how he feels about Gon, how his friend is his best friend and no one else can ever replace that. He loves Gon, like Gon loves him, and there’s nothing more to it. If there had been, things would have changed years ago. He would have cared that Gon went on dates all the time. But he didn't even think about the dates as anything weird until he was the one going on them. There aren’t supposed to be  _feelings_ in this bet. Killua has a bet with Gon, and that bet conveniently keeps people from assuming stupid shit about Killua. But now Killua’s the one assuming things, and he hates this.

Ikalgo is audibly holding back laughter. “You can’t talk to him because…?”

Killua wants to bang his head through the wall. “I told you, it’s a bet. You know Gon loves challenges.”

“You’re seventeen,” Ikalgo says from all his knowledge of being twenty-two. “It’s about time you started acting like the little shit you are.”

“Fuck you,” Killua says and hangs up the phone by throwing it at the floor.

From her desk in his room, Alluka gives a ladylike cackle. “Brother, you’ve been fucked since you agreed to this. If you don’t want to kiss him anymore, don’t kiss him anymore.”

“Fuck you too,” he says and throws a pillow at her.

It’s fine. It was once. Twice. It won’t happen again.

* * *

The kissing happens again. It doesn’t happen every night, or even very often. But when Killua finds himself staying over at the Freecss’s apartment for a weekend while Mito takes Alluka to one of her doctor’s appointments, or Gon notices a quiet moment after a date or between study sessions, there’s a hesitant question, and the response is a kiss that becomes increasingly easy the longer they practice.

Gon’s not sure how much of this practice is actually helping Killua learn, but he likes how his best friend’s lips feel, how eager he is to try new things.

Killua finds himself forgetting that it’s supposed to be fake, and has no idea how to feel about that.

* * *

Killua’s not sure how Gon convinces him to go to the first wrestling party of the year on a chilly mid-November Friday night. He’s gone to these before, always at a different house from a different captain, but always as Gon’s best friend, and always bailing after the drinking starts. Friendship only goes so far when there are drunk sixteen year olds flipping each other over couches.

Especially when one of those sixteen year olds is Gon, whose low center of gravity has lucked him into more than one win made of grit and stubborn determination. After being flipped over yet another piece of furniture, Killua had sworn off any and all wrestling related parties.

Even if it had ended with him tossing Gon into the pool in late November weather. His best friend’s head cold had sounded like music to Killua’s ears.

But here he is, crammed on a couch between two wrestlers trying to convince him to bulk up and join the team, a terrible drink in his hand he’s torn between nursing and downing in a single go. The wrestlers are nicer than he remembers, even if he’s long since forgotten their names. And no one has tried to knock him over any sofas, beds, or chairs.

Yet.

Gon’s talking with the captain whose house this is–Ren? Rekt? Gon went out with her briefly a year ago, knowledge that Killua used to not give a shit about but now makes something uncomfortable boil in the pit of his stomach–when he catches Killua’s eye. His whole face lights up, brown eyes dancing as he raises his plastic cup to Killua and downs whatever muck is in his in a single go. Killua narrows his eyes and does the same. Gon laughs, audible even over the blaring music, and goes for another round. The captain follows Gon’s gaze and makes a beeline for Killua, other wrestlers stepping out of her way or being stepped over.

“Never thought you’d be the one to get Gon serious about dating,” she says, nudging the wrestler to Killua’s left out of what is now her space.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Killua bites off.

She raises a hand in self-defense, trying to protect herself from words. “Just that you two always seemed comfortable as friends. You never dated anyone. And Gon never wanted to settle.”

“He’s not exactly settling with me,” Killua says, and the captain laughs, a loud boisterous sound that makes her whole body shake.

“You are such a egomaniacal dick, Zoldyck,” she says. “Look, don’t break his heart during season, alright? Not sure the team can handle that.”

“I’ll do my best,” Killua says drily. He can’t break anything that he doesn’t have, after all.

Thankfully, Gon appears with a pair of cups and a look in his eyes that sparks with challenge. “Killua!” he says, voice too loud even for the party.

Killua snags one of the drinks before it goes flying. “What are you doing, you dumbass,” he says.

“Getting you a drink,” Gon says, and winks like it’s some practical joke. The wrestlers around Killua burst out laughing, and Killua doesn’t care that he elbows one of them in the face in an effort to get off the sofa. They want to fight, he can bring it.

“You can’t turn down a come-on like that, right Killua?” the captain says.

Before he can finish telling her in excruciating, bodily correct detail where she can shove it, a strong arm wraps around Killua’s waist, tugging him towards a warm familiar chest. He instinctively leans into it, and wonders when this became so comfortable. “Sorry, Retz,” Gon says as he props his chin on Killua’s shoulder.

“You weren’t this gross with me, Freecss.”

“You’re not Killua,” Gon says, and Killua’s heart flips sideways and does a tap dance along his rib cage.

She makes a shooing motion with one hand, accepting a beer from the wrestler she’d kicked off the couch with her other. “Again. Disgusting. Romance is disgusting. Go make out or something, there’s a free room downstairs.”

“Or something, huh,” Killua says, and raises his eyebrows at Gon.

“Or something,” he agrees, and tugs Killua away from the others. Killua’s pulse starts to pound, and he shoves that back as quick as he can. It’s not his fault his stupid blood can’t remember this is all fake. That’s his head’s job.

Admittedly, his head is doing a piss poor job of it too.

Gon leads him to what looks like a makeshift guest bedroom, bedspread chosen obviously for its comfort and not for its attractiveness. Almost like someone expected a bunch of drunk high schoolers to pass out on it at some point. Killua’s head is clear, more tired than anything else, but he’s not near far enough gone to want to sleep anywhere but home or at Gon’s.

He peers into the cup Gon gave him, eyebrow raised. “It’s water,” Gon says, and plops down on the bed. It creaks a little under his weight.

“I’m not even buzzed. I can keep drinking,” Killua says.

“I know. But you looked ready to leave. And if we left right away, the team might think something was up.”

That’s. Not what Killua expected. It makes his stupid pulse beat harder, enough that his heart feels like it’s going to explode out of his chest. Gon being attentive and kind is nothing new. It’s why so many people have asked him out over the years. Gon genuinely hopes for the best in people, and zeroes in on those qualities as long as they help him and his friends. And if you’re his friend, he never, ever gives up. Killua’s always admired that about Gon.

That it also helps Gon win his bet, well. That’s just Gon being Gon.

He takes a large gulp. “One of us has to be ready to face your mom,” he says instead of thanks.

“And you have to drive me there,” Gon says. He understands even what Killua doesn’t say.

“You’re just mad you lost rock paper scissors for who got to drive tonight,” Killua says, and crosses the room until he’s standing in front of Gon.

“Maybe a little,” Gon admits. His eyes are bright, lamplight turning them molten and deep. “I can think of another way to beat you, though.”

“Yeah?” Killua asks, and sets his cup down. Gon looks up at him, dangerous smirk on his face, and the air turns dense and electric, like a storm building.

“Unless you think you’ll lose,” Gon says, his voice a sing song.

Gon’s not the only one who likes challenges, and right now Killua doesn’t care that he’s being played. “Bring it.”

It’s a stark moment of clarity as he’s bodily dragged into Gon’s lap, that there might be something more to this than just practicing kissing with his best friend. But then his lips are on Gon’s, and he can feel the way Gon’s lips turn upwards in a pleased smile, and Killua shoves those thoughts back into the dark corner of his head where they belong.

It’s nothing more than push and pull for a long time. They’ve gotten better at this–well, Killua’s gotten better. Gon’s gotten steadier, more willing to push at the right moment. Like how his hands stay at Killua’s waist, rubbing nonsense into the skin between his shirt and jeans with his thumbs, while Killua runs his fingers through Gon’s thick hair and down the back of his neck. His mouth is warm and inviting with the taste of cheap alcohol and soda, and Killua could lose hours trying to reason out why Gon kisses so damn well. He has lost whole nights wondering, phantom hands and tongues keeping him from any real sleep, but it’s so much less than the real thing.

Gon hums something. It feels like a question, and Killua has no idea if he’s got the right answer. But whatever he’s doing, it makes Gon give a quiet gasp, and Killua swallows it, kissing into Gon’s mouth open with a firm tongue and a sharp nip of his teeth. Gon’s hands slip off his hips and lower, until he’s kneading at Killua’s ass through his jeans. Killua breaks away from Gon’s lips with a groan, unable to hold back how his whole body shudders.

_This isn’t real,_  Killua thinks as loudly as he can, even as he presses as close to Gon as possible, hips flush against each other and Gon’s gasping laugh ringing in his ears.  _This isn’t real this isn’t real–_

“Killua,” Gon says, and his voice sounds strange, coarse and quiet from kissing. “Hey Killua, is this okay.”

Rather than respond verbally, Killua leans down and begins to kiss his way down the side of Gon’s neck. They haven’t tried this before, Killua belatedly realizes, and maybe the bet’s been long enough that it’s okay they try it now. From the noises Gon makes, it seems okay, little keening sounds that start soft but intensify as Killua finds the spot where Gon’s neck meets his shoulder and digs in with his teeth, licking and sucking by turns. There are plenty of parts of Gon that Killua wants to kiss, to mark as his for only the two of them to know about. Gon’s fingers dig into Killua’s skin like he’s trying to ground himself on anything in reach, dull fingernails scrabbling at space just above his belt and probably leaving bruises and marks across pale skin. 

_This isn’t–  
_

_“Killua,_ ” Gon groans like he’s forgotten other words, and he drags Killua back up to kiss him with bruising force. But before he can do anything more than whine–it’s too much, it’s not enough, Killua wants  _more_ –Killua finds himself rolled over, pressed against the mattress with Gon’s leg between his and his fingers tangled in Gon’s hair. Gon looks him over with deep, dark eyes, a few strands of black hair flopping across his forehead, and he smiles bright enough that Killua’s certain the sun’s trapped behind his teeth.

_–real._

Oh shit.

And then Gon’s mouth is making its way down Killua’s throat in the same path Killua had just taken, and the mixture of soft lips and sharp teeth has Killua moaning his best friend’s name in broken syllables. Why hadn’t they tried this before? Because this is great, everything is fantastic, Gon’s hand is under his shirt and running up his abs while he mouths against Killua’s collarbone, and Killua can’t even _think–-_

**BANGBANGBANG**

The sound of someone pounding at the door comes like a bucket of ice over both of them, and Killua shoves Gon off, both of them breathing hard. In the dim light, Gon’s eyes are huge and dark and completely unreadable save for the shock. And there’s a bruise at the base of his throat in the shape of Killua’s teeth, and Killua can’t stop staring at it. Gon’s hand carefully presses against it, and he shivers.

Killua swallows heavily.

“Killua, your phone,” Zushi says, voice muffled by the wall. When Gon opens the door, the taller wrestler looks over both of them with a mix of amusement, horror, and abject nerves, his thick eyebrows rising up to his hairline. The silence turns from awkward to thicker than molasses.

“Hello?” Gon says, and winces as Alluka begins shouting at him. “I’m sorry. We’re coming home now.”

“What’s wrong?” Killua asks. He doesn’t recognize his own voice.

Gon shakes his head. His hand is still on the hickey at his throat. A hickey Killua put there. “She thought you’d be back earlier. She has an appointment with the endocrinologist in the morning, and Leorio said Aunt Mito can’t go this time because she’s not legally family.”

Right. Shit. Killua scrunches up his eyes. How did he forget? “Yeah, we’re on our way,” he says in the direction of his phone.

He can’t make out Alluka’s reply, but it sounds annoyed.

Gon reaches out to hold Killua’s hand as they leave, but Killua rushes out the door before he gets a chance. It feels like if he tries to touch Gon again, he’ll get burned. Or he won’t want to stop.

Killua’s not sure which would be worse.

* * *

 

They don’t talk about it.

Gon wants to. But he can feel Killua radiating with nerves every time they get close enough to touch, practically buzzing when they hold hands in the hallways at school or sit together at lunch. Killua has his boundaries, and Gon isn’t going to overstep them. Not when the bet’s so close to being won. It’ll all make sense afterwards.

And Killua has no idea what to say. He doesn’t even tell Alluka what happened, how his chest tightens every time he thinks about the way that Gon’s lips felt on his, or how his skin tasted on Killua’s tongue. By then, he usually needs a cold shower. Gon’s not bringing it up, either, so it can’t be that important to him. All part of the game.

Neither of them know what it would mean if it were anything but fake.

So they don’t talk about it.

* * *

Gon and Killua are lounging on the sofa in the Freecss’s apartment at the start of December, Alluka trying and failing repeatedly to beat Killua’s high score in Street Kombat III with a stolen pair of Killua’s favorite headphones snug around her ears. Gon’s sore. Mostly from being tossed to the mats for two hours straight earlier that day. Killua’s probably sore too, having been swimming laps for hours on end when he’s not studying, but he’s not covered in bruises or with Bisky’s shouts ringing in his ears. She knows that Gon isn’t accepting the wrestling scholarships yet, that he probably won’t ever go to school for it, but that doesn’t stop her from kicking his ass and trying, again and again, to at least consider the possibilities. And the bruise on Gon’s throat has faded, but sometimes it feels like it’s still there, an itch against his skin that he can’t rub away.

They haven’t kissed since the wrestling party. They’ve barely even touched, Gon having to reach farther and farther to find Killua’s hand to hold. And Gon doesn’t like it. Even before the bet started, they would sit too close or fall asleep on the couch or Killua would reach over Gon to grab things, little touches that hadn’t meant anything before but Gon can’t imagine living without now. So moments like this, when it’s quiet and Killua’s not keeping space between them, Gon doesn’t say anything. If he did, they’d shatter like broken ice and melt away.

“Semester’s almost over,” Killua says from behind whatever he’s reading on his phone. He’s got his feet propped up on Gon’s thighs, thick socks shifting over and back as he fidgets with whatever he’s playing. Gon’s mindlessly been rubbing at his ankles, not even noticing what he’s doing until Killua squirms again.

“I have a good last date planned,” he says.

Killua lowers his phone, but still doesn’t meet Gon’s eyes. It looks like he has something else he wants to say, but it never passes through his mouth.

“Next weekend okay?” Gon says into the silence.

“Mm,” Killua hums, white curls shadowing his eyes. Without really thinking about it, Gon reaches over to brush his bangs out of his eyes, and Killua flinches away.

Gon pulls his hand back as though Killua had stuck his fingers in an electric socket. “I’m sorry,” he says.

Killua tugs his feet out of Gon’s lap, sitting with half cushion between them. It feels like they might as well be on opposite sides of the room. “You don’t have to act like you’re my boyfriend here,” he says.

“But Killua, I–”

Killua stares at the figures on the television, watching little sparks of pixels and light dancing with an unreadable look. Alluka curses under her breath, unaware of their conversation. “This isn’t real, Gon.”

The words stab like icicles into Gon’s chest. It’s true. This has all been fake. Gon knows. He doesn’t know why Killua brings it up now, and he really doesn’t know why it hurts. He says, “You’re right. It’s a bet, and I’m going to win.”

“That’s not…” Killua shakes his head, still avoiding Gon as he jolts to his feet and roots around for his coat. “I’m going for a walk.”

“Killua!” Gon says, and tries to grab his friend’s wrist. But Killua is fast, has always been fast, and he avoids Gon easily. “Where are you going?”

“It’s too stuffy in here. I’m getting a latte. Tell Alluka I’ll bring her something with extra marshmallows.” Finally, he meets Gon’s eyes, and he looks…exhausted? Killua always feels too much and keeps it locked away, but usually he doesn’t hold back as much around Gon. And now that he won’t talk, Gon doesn’t know how to unlock it. “You want green tea, right?”

Gon wants to ask if he can go with. They don’t have to fake being together now, not with no one from school around, so they can go as friends. Talk about something stupid, or try to count again how many schools Killua applied to, or have Killua verbally scout out the first school that Gon will be wrestling against. There’s never been any doubt that they wouldn’t be friends after this bet is over, only who would win the bet. Gon doesn’t want to win if he loses Killua.

But he won’t. Killua knows that.

Right?

“Be back soon?” Gon asks.

Killua nods wordlessly, and steps out into the cold.

Alluka lifts off the headphones as Gon plops back down on the couch. It’s colder now without Killua, so he needs to find another blanket, something to wrap himself up in. Her clear blue eyes trace Killua’s path from the couch to the door and back to Gon.

“You’re an idiot,” she tells him, and blows her black bangs out of her eyes.

“I know,” Gon says. Killua tells him that often enough.

She shakes her head. “I don’t think you do,” she says, and turns back to the game before Gon can ask her anything else.

* * *

Gon has had their last date planned out for weeks. They would get something warm to drink, probably hot cocoa or lattes for Killua and tea or matcha for Gon, and then they’d walk down to the pier. It shouldn’t be too cold yet, and if Gon times it right, they’ll be able to see the fireworks across the water. There’s some rich bureaucrat from Yorknew who lives there, and it usually sets off as many fireworks as is legal every weekend during the winter. And after that, maybe dinner? That would be up to Killua. It would be something special, a thank you to Killua for all the time they got to spend together while pretending to date, a cherry on the sundae of winning this months-long bet. Killua would have a good time, Gon would have a good time, and then Gon can figure out what he wants from Killua.

He hasn’t really thought about what it is, exactly, but Gon’s sure he’ll figure it out after the semester’s over.

“You thought way too much about this,” Killua says around a mocha latte with more chocolate in it than the barista had thought could be added.

Gon leans over to lace his fingers with Killua’s, a movement that’s become second-nature in the last few months. Killua stiffens abruptly and starts to pull away, but looks around at the other people and lets Gon hold his hand. It’s not what Gon wants, so he lets go and returns to his own cup, frowning.

“I wanted it to be special,” he says.

“It’s something, alright,” Killua says.

“It’s our last date, Killua! It’s not real, but it’s still–”

Killua downs the rest of his drink in a single go and stands fast enough that his chair topples over behind him. The student working behind him whips her head at Gon and glares like it’s his fault. He holds up a hand in apology while also working as fast as he can to follow Killua. He’s told Killua where they’re going next, but he’d thought they would go together. Slowly. Take it easy for one last night.

“Hurry up, Gon, we don’t have forever,” Killua says.

They do. Don’t they?

But Killua is out the door before Gon can even open his mouth to speak, gone so quickly he forgets his scarf. It’s a gift from Aunt Mito and Gon the year Killua had started high school, soft blue wool woven through with silvery threads. Aunt Mito had been on a crusade to make sure Killua didn’t get sick walking outside after swim practice with his hair still wet, so Killua had started wearing it for her. Gon always thought it matched Killua’s eyes, but mentioning that had made Killua turn funny colors.

Gon stares at it for a long moment. Rather than think about it, he tucks it into his pocket before rushing after his best friend.

Killua’s almost at the waterfront by the time Gon catches up, hands stuck deep in the pockets of his coat and shoulders scrunched up to his neck against the December chill. The sunset reflects off the water and his hair, turning the edges of his white curls a murky mix of reds and yellows. Gon wants to run his fingers through it. He hadn’t wanted to do that before, but now he knows how soft the tangles are, how familiar they are against Gon’s callouses.

“So? When’s this start?” Killua asks.

Gon scrunches his hand around Killua’s scarf. “The fireworks usually start when the sun goes down, Killua,” he says, and steps up so they stand shoulder to shoulder.

“Oh.” He sounds disappointed, like he’d wanted it to be over sooner. Gon doesn’t like that.

“What’s wrong, Killua?”

“Look, I have to go.” Killua looks at him sideways, blue eyes frozen in the twilight. “That okay?”

Gon frowns. “Not really.”

“Why the hell not? We’re done after this. You said it, this is our last date. None of this has been real.”

“Because–”  Because he wants to win this bet. Because he wants to spend time with Killua, just the two of them. Because he likes dating Killua, likes it more than anyone else. Because it’s Killua.

“Because we’re not done yet,” he says.

Killua studies him silently as darkness falls. From the other side of the small lake, a cheer goes up, and the first fireworks explode overhead with a bang. Gon barely notices, except for when the light bounces off the snow around them and clashes with the pink in Killua’s frozen cheeks.

And Killua leans down and presses cold lips to Gon’s in a chaste kiss. It feels nothing like kissing Killua does. It feels…impersonal. It feels like nothing.

Someone passing by gives a long, loud wolf-whistle, and Killua pulls back. His expression is blank except for the tiny crinkle between his eyebrows holding back all of his emotions. “There. You proved you can date someone for long enough that people think you’re dating. Now we’re done. Game over. Go find someone else.”

“I don’t want to date someone else,” Gon says before he realizes what words are coming out of his mouth.

“What part of  _this isn’t real_  do you not get?”

“Maybe it’s not fake!” Gon says. He steps into Killua’s space, fists clenched and chin set as he glares up, and Killua’s eyes grow huge with shock and no small bit of anger. “Maybe it started fake, but it’s not anymore!”

There’s a long, impossible pause, and several emotions pass across Killua’s burning eyes. Gon doesn’t like any of them. “You can’t just choose that for me,” Killua says.

“I’m not! But I don’t know if it’s fake anymore.”

“And who decides that, huh? You?” Killua shoves Gon away. He stumbles back into the snow, struggling to stay on his feet to keep arguing.

“You didn’t say anything!”

“You didn’t either!” Killua turns on his heel, shoving his hands back into his gloves hard enough that the fabric creaks warningly. “I thought it was just a bet to you!”

“It was! But now it’s not!”

Killua barks a laugh, a bitter harsh sound that clangs against the fireworks. “Could you have figured that out before now? We’re done!”

“Killua–”

“Fuck off, Gon!”

“Not before you tell me if you thought this was real or not!”

“I don’t know!” Killua snarls furiously, loud enough to be heard over the distant boom of fireworks. “I don’t know, and you don’t know, and I am  _not_ figuring this out now!”

This time when he shoves, Gon falls on his ass into the snowbank, soaking him through his jeans. “Killua–”

“Just leave me alone for awhile,” he says, voice tight. “I need to…I have to think. And you don’t help me think clearly anymore.”

That hurts more than any of the shoving, or the shouting, or anything else really, that Killua doesn’t want him around. Gon wants to keep arguing, keep pushing. But the harder he presses, the more Killua is going to stiffen, until Gon’s not arguing with his best friend but a block of pure diamond in the shape of the Zoldyck heir. And Gon loves  _Killua_.

So he says, “Okay,” and lets Killua stalk away into the night.

* * *

For the first time in years, Gon and Killua don’t talk.

At all.

Gon gives Killua time. It’s what he wanted, so Gon’s not going to do anything. He knows he messed up, but he knows Killua has to decide when Gon can apologize.

Killua gives Gon space. Gon’s not going to reach out, and a simple apology’s not enough. Not for this. But he also needs to figure out why it’s not, before he can figure out just what he wants.

They hate it. But if they’re going to be friends again, they need it.

Whatever that means.

* * *

“Don’t take this the wrong way, Gon, but you look like a truck ran over your dog.”

“I don’t have a dog, Leorio.”

“Then it must have run over your foot. Why else would you be in my hospital?”

Gon looks up from his homework (it’s December! It’s practically winter break! They have finals! Why is there still math homework) to glare at Leorio. The med student is in his scrubs, having taken his mandatory nap break between shifts and discovered Gon hanging out in the cafeteria. Over the years, it’s become a strangely comfortable place for Gon, who’s had to process a variety of broken bones, contusions, and that one summer where he almost died before he even had a chance to start high school. Gon’s happy to be alive to see it, bland sandwiches and all. And it means he can run into Leorio sometimes, even if he’s a nosy old man. “Alluka and Killua are working at Aunt Mito’s, and there isn’t enough space for all three of us to study,” he says.

Leorio runs a hand feverishly through his hair and drops onto the bench. “Never stopped you before,” he says. “Or you could’ve brought them here. Plenty of tables.”

“It’s different,” Gon says.

“Yeah? What, did you break up with Killua already?”

Gon turns back to his homework, stomach churning, and Leorio sighs like a freight train passing by. “Shit, buddy, I didn’t think…”

“We didn’t.” A pause. “I don’t think.”

“Take it from an expert, you usually know when you break up with someone.”

Gon scowls at his paper. “I wasn’t dating him, Leorio.”

“You weren’t–You know what, I’m not going to ask.” Leorio tugs the paper out from Gon’s hands and makes a few notes, not answers but places where Gon might try something different. Leorio’s always been a good tutor, when he’s not being bad at advice. “You’re seventeen, so this might sound like the worst advice, but really: He’s your best friend. You won’t fix things unless you talk.”

Gon wants to tell his friend to fuck off, but he’s also learned that Leorio, as old as he acts all of the time, really does care. It’s why they’re friends still. “I’ll try,” he promises.

Leorio wanders off back to work, grumbling, “Fucking high school, I don’t miss it one bit.”

* * *

_i miss you,_  Gon’s phone reads. It feels like months since they spoke, even if it’s only a few days, and this is the first he’s had any word from Killua at all. He takes a deep breath before responding.

_me too. can we talk?_

Killua doesn’t respond for several hours, and when he does, Gon’s heart sinks.  _not yet._

The next message comes within minutes.  _but soon._

* * *

Retz finds Killua at his locker, helped in locating it no doubt by Zushi, who hovers just down the hallway blatantly ignoring everything that’s going on, and Alluka, who leans against the lockers near Zushi and is very obviously listening in on the conversation. Killua loves his sister but she is going to be the death of him. The wrestling captain is about Gon’s height and in the weight class below him, but for a moment Killua worries that she could actually fight him on equal standing. Killua would win, sure, but it’s that momentary hesitation that puts him off his guard long enough for her to get into his personal space.

“I told you not to break his heart during season,” she says.

“I didn’t break shit,” Killua snaps.

Retz eyes him like she’s wondering how many noises his bones will make when she breaks them. “Both of you went from a completely gross level of boyfriends to not talking to each other, in the course of a few weeks. And Gon’s gone all intense, which he always does but now it’s scaring everyone else.”

“You don’t seem scared.”

“Because Gon’s not here. You’re scary too, but Gon’s…” She shivers. “I don’t know if my party had anything to–”

“It didn’t.” This isn’t anyone’s fault but his and Gon’s.

She relaxes a little, and Killua has a strong suspicion that it isn’t heartbreak that has been affecting the team as much as their captain feeling guilty for something stupid. “I’m still sorry. So let me give you some advice: I know you’ve never done this before, Zoldyck, but you could at least talk to him. He’s sulking.”

“How do you think I feel?” Killua says.

She manages to look down her nose at him, despite being half a head shorter. “You’re both dumbasses,” she says. “At least come to the first big meet in January, alright? It’s right before school starts. Maybe you’ll keep Gon from breaking his bones trying something stupid.”

“Gon does stupid shit whether I’m there or not,” Killua says.

Retz barks a laugh. “True,” she says. “But it’s more entertaining to watch when you’re around.”

* * *

_im sorry,_  gleams up from Killua’s phone a week after they’d fake broken up. It’s fucking stupid that this hurts like a real break up, just because it’s Gon.

But it hurts because it’s Gon.  _im sorry too._

* * *

“Have you talked to Brother yet?” Alluka asks. They’re supposed to be finishing homework for the history class the three of them share, Gon and Alluka and Zushi, that was the promise to Aunt Mito. It’s the last day of classes this week, and all of the high schoolers can practically taste freedom. But Gon couldn’t let a challenge to his Greed Island racing score go undefeated, not even by Alluka Zoldyck. Gon suspects it is a successful trap to get him to talk to her without Killua around.

Not that Killua’s around Gon at all now.

Gon doesn’t take his eyes off the screen. “Texting,” he says.

Alluka groans and stabs at the buttons on her controller a little harder than necessary. “He’s avoiding you.”

“Killua has an essay due tonight, and that calc thing tomorrow.”

“So he’s avoiding you.”

Zushi flops his long limbs onto the couch, a few pieces of popcorn jumping out of the bowl and onto the floor. A few of them land in Alluka’s hair, and Zushi carefully picks them out while she’s distracted by the game. “Are you two going to be okay?” he asks quietly.

Gon doesn’t know. He’s known Killua for so long, they’ve had such stupid fights in the past. But this one seems different. Gon knows he wants to be around Killua, has always wanted that. If Killua doesn’t want that anymore, Gon would know.

They want to be around each other. And maybe part of that has changed a little, something weighty and intangible that warped the fabric of their friendship for a time. But it won’t change so much they’ll break. Not from this.

“We’re best friends,” he tells Zushi, and narrowly avoids a banana peel tossed onto the track.

Alluka snorts. “They’re idiots. They’ll be fine. Even Kalluto thinks so.”

“Thanks, Alluka,” Gon says, and knocks her off the game’s island and into the ocean.

* * *

_i should have said something._

Killua stares at the text message for ten minutes before even thinking how to respond.  _no shit_ , he finally says.

_you could have too_

_no shit._

* * *

“This is stupid,” Killua says to his ceiling.

“Yeah,” Ikalgo says. “But you’re kind of stupid about this.”

Killua wishes his friend were in the same room so he could throw something at him. Maybe a piano. “What would you know, you’re just old.”

“At least I’m not in high school, kid.” Rather than listen to Killua splutter, he says, “Killua, you are probably the smartest person I’ve ever met. You practically rewrote my soc paper just now without reading half of the shit I got assigned this semester. Use your brain and think about why this is bothering you.”

“It’s not–”

“You don’t have to tell me, just. Figure it out.” Ikalgo pauses. “If you need to talk, I guess I’m. You know. Here.”

Killua appreciates it, but he more appreciates that Ikalgo knows he’s not going to say anything. He knows why it’s been bothering him. It’s because this is Gon. They’ve known each other for so long, and things were good. He knew what to expect, and Gon knew it too: a steady presence at each other’s side, one that would never go away. Gon’s forgotten to tell Killua important things before, just as Killua’s held things back. They’ve fought, they’ve made up, they’re back to normal.

And now things…they’re not different, not in the sense that anyone else seems to understand. Killua will still have to confront his college applications, his future, his family. Gon’s still going to find Ging. Killua has loved Gon for years, and he knows Gon loves him. They’re still going to be friends. Always, always, they’re going to be friends.

But it’s changing, like leaves turning colors in the fall, so slowly that Killua hadn’t noticed until the whole forest of their friendship has turned from green to gold. And that change should be terrifying, but Killua finds that, now that it’s not an abrupt surprise, he might welcome it with open arms.

“It’s still stupid,” Killua decides.

Ikalgo snorts. “Yeah. You are.”

* * *

It’s late on the first Wednesday of winter break when the phone buzzes again. Another message from Killua. Gon can’t hide how his heart jumps.

_can we hang out?_

_tonight?_

_yeah. meet at the pier?_

_okay._

* * *

The closest restaurants and coffee shops are all closed up, the only lights those flickering out from the few taller buildings in town and the occasional streetlight. On a weeknight in late December, not many people make it out to the waterfront, and even fewer brave the freezing wind that blows in off the waterfront. But the night is crystal clear, and the sliver of moon blazes out of an infinite canvas of stars.

Killua likes it this way. No grand gestures, no fireworks, just. Quiet.

A pair of chocorobo cartons tap onto the bench next to him, wrapped up in his blue scarf. He looks up to see Gon, a small hopeful smile on his face. His black spiked hair is trapped under a hat so green it’s practically glowing. “These are for you,” he says.

That’s…not what Killua expected. “Why?” he asks.

“This is all I could get on the way here. It’s kind of late, so everywhere’s closed.” He sits down on the edge of the bench, letting the chocolate stay between them like a barrier.

Killua shakes his head. “No, why did you give me chocolate?”

Gon looks at him like he’s grown an extra head out of his shoulder. “That’s the rules of the bet,” he says. “You won, so I owe you as many chocorobos as I can afford. This is all I have for now, but if you wait a little bit, I can get you the rest.”

“But–”

“I can return them if you want something else.”

Killua grabs the chocorobos and shoves them in his pockets before Gon can say anything else foolish. Gon snorts, and looks over the water when Killua glares at him.

And then it’s quiet again. But the clear air is tense, even the occasional sounds of cars passing not making a dent in how thick it feels.

So of course they start talking at the same time.

“I’m sorry, I–”

“I didn’t mean to–”

They both stop, words stumbling drunkenly around the air, and they stare at each other for a long moment. Gon’s the first to break, a rough laugh that starts in his stomach and comes out his nose and leaves his shoulders trembling. Killua mostly manages to avoid laughing, even though his chest feels like it’s about to burst. “We’re idiots,” Killua says.

Gon nods, body still wracked with giggles. “We are.” He takes a few more seconds to compose himself, wiping his face off with his gloves. “I’m sorry, Killua. I didn’t mean to not tell you, but I…”

“Wasn’t thinking, I know.” Killua blows his bangs out of his face. “I’m sorry too. I thought you didn’t…I didn’t think you’d be interested.”

“I hadn’t thought about it,” Gon says honestly.

Killua raises his eyebrows incredulously. “You mean, every time you suggested we kiss, or make out, you didn’t think about wanting to do more of that.”

“I wanted to win!” But he stops, reconsiders. “I wanted to kiss you a lot, and I wanted to beat you. It didn’t seem contradictory until I thought about it.”

“Of course it didn’t.” Killua moves closer and closer to his best friend, until they’re pressed flush from shoulder to knee. Gon hesitantly puts his hand over Killua’s, and Killua leans his head on Gon’s shoulder.

“What do you think, Killua?”

He lets his thoughts reshuffle, organizing themselves around what Killua knows and what his heart wants. “I think…we’re best friends,” he finally says. “And that won’t ever change.”

“Promise?”

“Pinky swear,” Killua says with a laugh. Gon’s nose twitches, because he takes pinky promises way too seriously for a teenager. “Besides, I owe you a favor. Within reason.”

“But you won, so I owe you chocorobos.”

“I think we both lost, Gon,” Killua says. “Turns out you fooled me into thinking we were dating, and you thought you failed.”

A smile grows on Gon’s lips, one that makes his brown eyes dance and Killua’s breath catch. “I’ll think about it,” he says.

“You? Think?”

“It happens sometimes,” Gon says, and half-shrugs so that he doesn’t knock Killua off. “Does this mean you want to try going out? For real, this time?”

Killua wraps an arm around Gon’s waist, leeching off his warmth. “Maybe we just keep dating, and be best friends. We’ll see what happens then.”

He feels more than sees Gon’s smile. “That’s great.”

The night drifts cold and quiet, and Killua’s content to stay here, as long as Gon is. Gon will have to come up with his favor eventually, after all, and as much as he could think about it for the next three months, there’s a chance he could spring it on Killua now, fully formed and unprepared for the consequences. That’s not exactly unheard of with Gon.

“Hey, Killua.”

“Hmm?”

“You never said if you wanted to kiss me.”

Killua picks his head off of Gon’s shoulder, a curious expression on his face. “I didn’t?”

“Not the first time I asked,” Gon says.

“Then ask me again, dumbass.”

Gon’s eyes gleam with moonlight. “I’m asking now,” he says, and runs a calloused finger along Killua’s jawline. His best friend shivers, and not from the cold. “Do you want to kiss me, Killua?”

“Maybe I do,” Killua says, and kisses him soundly.

——————-

“You’re both idiots,” Alluka tells them later, when spending all night out in the cold means that Gon’s sick with a headcold and Killua has the worst case of a sinus infection he can remember.

They grin at each other anyways. “We know,” Gon says, and Killua sneezes.

**Author's Note:**

> [it's stuck in my head (but secretly I wrote most of this to dua lipa's "new rules")](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hyj4JFSErrw)
> 
> [tumblr!](https://xyliane.tumblr.com/)


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